


Dealing With That Pesky UST

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Face, ever the experienced bringer of sexy times, decides it's time he and Hannibal got down and dirty. Hannibal has never been with a man before, but who cares? Face can turn any man gay, right? Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dealing With That Pesky UST

The setting is perfect. There's no-brainer country music playing in the background, Hannibal has his whiskey and Face has his Martini (and no, it isn't a girl's drink, Face insists to himself, so shut your mouth about it). They're sitting on Face's couch, relaxed and at ease. Hannibal has undone a few shirt buttons and rolled up his sleeves, and Face is in his best suit which looks damn fine on him.

Perfect.

“So, Hannibal, I've been thinking,” Face says, turning a little and using the movement to camouflage the fact that he shifts a few inches closer to the older man. “You ever considered the ill effects of unresolved sexual tension?”

Hannibal chokes on his whiskey, sputtering and coughing for a good three minutes before he is calm enough to reply. “Beg pardon?”

“Unresolved... sexual... tension,” Face repeats, drawing each syllable out until it borders on the obscene. “Did you ever stop to think about how it might affect the team?”

Hannibal's blush seems to spread from his ears and ends up covering even his throat. “You're big boys, I expect you to go out and take care of any _tension_ yourselves,” he said evasively.

“No, I'm thinking more of the tension within the team,” Face says, grinning. He has the other man acting defensive; this is even easier than he'd thought. “Between members.”

Hannibal looks firmly at the fireplace. Which is lit, of course. “Lieutenant, if you and -”

“You and me, Hannibal. The unresolved sexual tension between you... and me.”

Hannibal sits very still, not moving a muscle. Face can see tension in every line of his body. Those blue eyes are darting, looking for a way out. Face knows he won't find any, short of breaking down the door and making a run for it.

“I think you've had enough to drink, Face.”

Oh, that sounds desperate. Face smirks. Blame it on the alcohol, eh? He can do that. He's been waiting for this too long; he's not going to let a little shyness and denial stop him now.

“This is my second, Hannibal. That's your third. We're nowhere near drunk. Come on, you can't tell me you've never thought about it?”

“I don't like men,” Hannibal says quietly, still trying to burn a hole through the wall by looking at it. “There's no, no tension on my part, kid.”

“That'll be why you've been staring at my ass lately, then,” Face comments lightly, moving closer still. Hannibal shifts a little further away, like a fifties housewife trying to preserve her virtue. Face's grin turns feral, and he leans in as if to share a great secret. “And you're so tense right now I could use you for an ironing board.”

Hannibal grunts non-committally. Face shifts closer, and Hannibal shifts away until he's pressed against the armrest of the couch. They're mere inches apart and Face can feel the tight coil of power that is Hannibal right now.

“Maybe you don't like men,” Face says, his leg pressing against Hannibal's, “but you like _me_.”

Hannibal's face turns this magnificent shade of red; it's a mix between ripe tomato and cayenne pepper. He turns away and gives an embarrassed little cough. Face just wants to molest him, he looks so good like that.

“Please don't do this, kid. I'm in over my head here, and it's not a good look for me.”

“I beg to differ, I think you're exceedingly handsome when you're all flustered,” Face laughs. He puts a hand provocatively on Hannibal's thigh and squeezes. “And in case you haven't noticed, this is the perfect opportunity to do something about all that tension I mentioned earlier.”

But Hannibal, obstinate as always, just sits there, gazing stonily at the far wall, and Face knows it's up to him to actually do something. He doesn't mind; he's always enjoyed the chase, and this is _Hannibal_ he's chasing. The man he's been wanting for years. He doesn't mind going out on a limb here, especially since he's pretty sure it'll hold.

So Face grabs Hannibal's head with both hands and forces the older man to turn far enough to be kissed. Face presses his lips to Hannibal's, open and with just a hint of tongue there to eliminate any doubts his CO might have had. They're doing this, and they're doing it now. And if this kiss just so happens to lead to sex, well, that's exactly why Face has placed a tube of lube and a condom within easy reach on his nightstand.

Hannibal doesn't react at first, but Face knows he's going to get his way, so he persists. And finally, with just a touch too much hesitation and a little fumbling, Hannibal turns fully and slides his arms around Face, pulling the younger man closer. He kisses back. His mouth opens under Face's and he tastes fantastic after all these years of holding back.

“Come on, let's go to bed,” Face murmurs, his lips brushing Hannibal's as he speaks. They're sharing the same air now and Hannibal's breath is hot and heavy against Face's skin. “I got a surprise for you, boss.”

Hannibal looks right into his eyes, still uncertain but obviously determined to follow through, judging by the set of his jaw. “We're doing this tonight, huh?”

“Mm,” Face confirms, nipping a little at Hannibal's bottom lip and revelling in the jolt that goes through the older man at this playful action. “Definitely.”

“I've never -”

“Don't worry, I have,” Face whispers. He grins against Hannibal's skin as his lips cross a flushed cheek to whisper into an ear, “A lot.”

Hannibal pulls back suddenly and gives him a look. “You been fucking around, Face? I hope that's not something you plan on keeping up. If we do this...”

“When, boss, _when_ we do this,” Face mutters, and he's tasting the skin on Hannibal's neck now. It's musky, earthy, warm. All man and completely mouthwatering. “I'm yours, boss. Take it or leave it.”

After that, the pace picks up on its own. Hannibal follows him into the bedroom, Face begins shedding clothing, and Hannibal reluctantly imitates him. Face can see his own insecurities from the first time he let another man bring him home, mirrored in Hannibal's eyes; the older man is still hesitant. How do I look, how many times has he done this before, am I just another piece of tail to this guy, what does he want from me?

“I've been wanting this for years,” Face volunteers, knowing this will ease the boss' mind. “God, Hannibal, you've no idea how much I want you.”

Hannibal's shoulders go back a little and the older man seems to gain confidence as he sheds his trousers and finally stands there in just his boring, grey boxer-briefs. Probably cotton. Face's flashy blue silk shorts will be discarded in short order; they're not really that comfortable to wear, but he knows his ass looks spectacular in them.

Face pulls Hannibal with him when he climbs onto the bed, they're both holding off for a second and then Hannibal is on his back with Face draped over him like so much warm clinginess. Their lips get reacquainted, their hands begin mapping new territory, and even though Hannibal is too gentle and treats Face like he would a woman, it's already mind-blowing.

“Harder,” Face suggests when Hannibal's hand strokes down his side, tickling him until he almost laughs. “Rough me up a little, I can take it.”

Hannibal looks horrified, but doesn't speak. Instead the older man slides a hand down beneath the waistband of Face's shorts, grasping his dick carefully and giving it a few experimental tugs. Face moans enthusiastically and yeah, it's a bit too much of a response for such a simple action, but he needs Hannibal to know this is okay. They're doing this and it's going to be great.

“So what do you want?” Face murmurs, rolling off Hannibal and going for the stuff on his nightstand. “Want to wear it,” he brandishes the condom with a grin, “or take it?”

Hannibal's eyes darken with lust, but his voice is still struggling to stay neutral when he replies. “I don't know, kid, it's not like I have a preference established.”

Face is versatile; he works both ends – it all depends on his partner. He's always imagined giving himself to Hannibal, letting the older man dominate him, mainly because he already knew Hannibal was hung the first time he saw him in the showers back on base and yeah, he might be just a little bit of a size queen. But getting to fuck Hannibal Smith? Hell, he might have sacrificed his left eye for that back in the day when he was still a rookie sergeant and easily impressed by the man who accepted him so effortlessly where most others raised sceptical eyebrows.

“Let's try option two first,” Face purrs, “and if you don't like it, just let me know and we'll switch.”

He winks down at Hannibal and the older man smiles just a little. He finally seems to be warming up to this idea, and Face is pleased. He knew he could work this, it just took a bit longer than he'd expected.

Soon enough they're both on their sides, facing each other. Face is kissing the older man leisurely, just sharing the taste of their mutual attraction, keeping Hannibal distracted as he gets the lube ready – literally behind Hannibal's back. When his fingers are slick and Hannibal is relaxed in his arms, Face slips one hand down to Hannibal's ass and palms it gently. Hannibal starts a little at the initial touch, but doesn't even twitch when Face's fingers begin playing over his entrance. His response to Face's kisses turns a little absent, though, and Face knows he's trying to familiarize himself with the feeling of someone touching him there, like that, for the first time.

“How's this?” Face asks softly, pressing one finger in, slowly.

Hannibal releases an almost shuddering breath and Face adds another finger immediately. “Okay. Good.”

“God, you're tight,” Face breathes, pressing closer to Hannibal and feeling muscle contract around his fingers. “You feel so good, boss.”

“Hmmph,” Hannibal replies, brow furrowing in concentration. His body clenches almost rhythmically on Face's fingers and there's a tightness to his shoulders which tells Face that Hannibal isn't as okay with this as it appears.

“I can see you thinking, boss. Stop it,” Face demands, grinning a little. He twists his fingers gently and Hannibal's breath hitches. “Tell me.”

“Just new to this, 's all,” Hannibal grunts, his arm tightening a little around Face's middle. “Isn't it supposed to hurt?”

Face laughs, the sound husky even to his own ears. “How would you know? When did you ever learn about the ins and outs of gay sex?”

Hannibal's face reddens and his body tightens up. Face bites his lip to keep from groaning at the sensation. He slips his hand away from Hannibal's ass (though not without a sigh of regret) and sits up, coaxing Hannibal to lie on his back under him instead.

“Hannibal, relax. We don't have to do this. You can top if you want,” he says, slithering down on top of his CO and pressing sensuously against him. “I just thought, y'know, since you haven't done it before...”

“I trust you on this, kid,” Hannibal says, and the look he gives Face is completely open. Hannibal Smith just lays there on the bed and looks up at him for directions.

Face sees the vulnerability there, and it really shouldn't be turning him on as much as it is, should it?

“Lift your hips, then,” Face suggests, and he grabs a pillow to shove under there. When Hannibal is situated to his liking, he grabs hold of the older man's half-hard cock and gives it a few loving strokes. Hannibal is easily teased back to hardness, his breath coming deep and heavy again once Face lowers his mouth to Hannibal's cock and licks it playfully.

Sucking lightly on Hannibal's erection, Face palms his balls and then slips his fingers lower, back to that hot, clenching orifice. This time, Hannibal doesn't even flinch when Face's fingers begin to slip inside him, two at first, moving gently. Then another. Face never releases the hardness from his mouth, never stops sucking and playing with it, while he gently stretches Hannibal open with his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks softly, finally feeling Hannibal's body relaxed enough to easily take three fingers.

“Do it, kid,” Hannibal replies, panting, eyes closed tightly.

“Look me in the eyes, Hannibal,” Face demands, moving back up and grabbing the condom. “I want you to see everything.” He rolls on the condom and slicks himself up. The lube smells faintly of licorice and it's almost distracting, but it was that or strawberries and Face knows the boss hates strawberries.

Hannibal's eyes flutter open, lock with Face's own. There's a moment where neither of them moves, Face poised with his dick ready to push against Hannibal's body, Hannibal's hands braced in a white-knuckled grip on Face's shoulders. Then Face thrusts his hips just slightly and feels Hannibal's body yield, until he's halfway in. That's when he stops and looks at Hannibal's expression again.

“You okay?” he asks. His voice is tight because he's exercising every last ounce of his self-control here in order to not just fuck the colonel with great enthusiasm and vigour, because that might not be Hannibal's idea of a great first time (though it's certainly Face's).

“I can take it,” Hannibal grits, teeth clenched. “Is that it?”

Face laughs despite himself, and pushes slowly inside until their hips are flush against each other. “No, this is it.”

Hannibal releases a breath that Face could see him holding. “Okay. Good. I think. Jesus, Face. I can't believe I'm letting you...”

“Deflower you?” Face grins, pulling back just a little, hands braced to either side of Hannibal's ribs. He can see the older man's chest move with his heaving breath as Face rocks his hips achingly slow. “Me neither. But it's fun, isn't it?”

Hannibal snorts a laugh, shifting just a little bit. With his feet placed firmly on the mattress to either side of Face's knees, he feels as if he's manning up and getting the job done. Which Face hopes to God isn't the case; if Hannibal isn't enjoying this, then there's only half a point to this whole exercise (because, come on, fucking Hannibal Smith would never be completely pointless).

“C'mon, boss, work with me here,” Face coaxes, and he leans his weight on one hand so he can grab Hannibal's leg and lift it a little. “Put your ankle over my shoulder.”

Hannibal glares up at him. “Don't push it, kid.”

But Face still manages to get Hannibal's left leg bent and curled up next to his hip, and the next time he sinks in Hannibal feels softer, more pliant beneath him. Face groans and pushes in deep. Yeah, just like that. _Fuck._

When he pulls back a little, Hannibal jolts violently and bucks up, actually dislodging Face from between his legs. The younger man gives a surprised grunt as their chests collide somewhat uncomfortably. Looking up at Hannibal, he finds his CO's eyes glazed over with pleasure and that tempting mouth is hanging open.

“Do that again,” Hannibal suggests, his eyes focusing slowly on Face again. “That thing. Do it again.”

Face laughs and moves back, urging Hannibal to curl both legs up this time. “What, you never had a prostate exam?”

“It never felt like that during a medical,” Hannibal admits, grinning a little. “C'mon, kid, you're supposed to be good at this. Do it again.”

Face lines himself up and pushes back in, accompanied by an anticipatory groan from Hannibal. After a few experimental thrusts, he finds the right angle and Hannibal's eyes roll back in his head. Face knows he's grinning like a loon and doesn't care; the expression on Hannibal's face is priceless.

“Fuck! Again,” Hannibal orders, legs clenching around Face's waist as his ass clenches around Face's cock.

“I'm a-doing,” Face pants, pushing back in and revelling in the lusty moan that earns him. “You're so demanding, boss.”

Hannibal cries out when Face pushes in just like that and the conman sets a steady pace, feeling the heat and tightness bring him to a level of arousal he can't remember ever having felt. When Hannibal's hands pull him in closer, he nearly loses it.

“Fuck, boss,” Face pants, “I thought you weren't gay!”

“Shut up, Templeton,” Hannibal growls, his hips bucking up to meet Face's as the younger man pushes in deep. “Just shut up and... and...”

And that sentence dies in a drawn-out moan the likes of which Face has never heard from a man before, not even the most enthusiastic bottoms he met in the gay bars of LA. It's a sound of pure pleasure, of Hannibal letting everything go and just enjoying the feeling of this, of Face's cock up his ass, and that draws an answering moan from Face.

“Oh God,” Hannibal gasps, shivering every time Face hits his prostate. “Face, oh, holy fuck, kid!”

Face rears up, kneeling back on his haunches and pulling Hannibal's hips up so he can thrust harder still, putting all his strength into this. Hannibal's constant moans fuel the need to bring them both to the edge, to find release, to claim the older man completely. Face's head lolls back and he can't contain the low-pitched sound of delight as Hannibal's body tightens around him in little bursts of pleasure.

“Gonna make you come,” Face pants, and he grasps Hannibal's dick, thick and hard and standing to attention, stroking it roughly. “Want you to let go, Hannibal.”

Hannibal's hands fist in the sheets, his body twitching and his mouth slack with the intensity of this. Those usually clever eyes are a fog of lust and need right now, barely able to see Face through it all, and the younger man loves the sight of it. He's done this. He's reduced the great Hannibal Smith to a mass of greedy, swearing sex, and it feels fucking _awesome_.

With a practised flick of the wrist, Face wrings Hannibal's orgasm from him and the older man's abdomen twitches, his eyes scrunch shut, and he gives a growl that reverberates through Face. His grip turns slick with the colonel's come, and Face tightens his fist, jerking him until Hannibal is shuddering and batting his hand away weakly.

“Oh God.”

It's a raspy sound, gritted out from between clenched teeth, as Hannibal forces his eyes open and looks up at Face, the conman's own eyes dark and wide.

“Fuck, Face,” Hannibal groans, body still shuddering weakly in aftermath. “That's...”

Face is so close; so close he can feel the little stabs of heat begin at the base of his skull and run down his spine, spread through his body until he's crying out and tensing up, coming, pulsing heat and racing heartbeat. Everything sort of fades to blinding white for a moment and Face knows he's moaning weakly as he thrusts erratically through the haze of pleasure. When he finally sinks down over Hannibal, shuddering and gasping for breath, Face can't think of anything but how amazing sex with his CO is.

“I think I love you,” Face murmurs into the skin of Hannibal's neck.

Hannibal goes from relaxed and warm under him to stiff as a board and trying to push him off in a heartbeat. “Shit, kid.”

Face, still mellowed out after a really great orgasm, doesn't react until Hannibal is trying to push their _hips_ apart and that just won't fly yet, not when Face is still trying to find out where he left his brains before he began fucking Hannibal.

“Whoa, boss, take it easy. Where's the fire?”

“Too fast,” Hannibal grunts, and when he finally succeeds in getting Face off him, the younger man is alert and wondering what the hell Hannibal is talking about.

“Too fast what?” Face asks, flopping to his back on the bed. He pulls off the condom and ties it, and tosses it in the general direction of the trash can – his aim is pretty good, he's sure it hits – before turning to grin at Hannibal. Whom he's just _fucked_. And that's not something he's going to forget, ever.

“We just had sex and you're telling me...” Hannibal prompts, but then seems to think better of it and his cheeks – still ruddy from the sex and arousal – just don't seem to be returning to their normal colour. He seems to realize how stupid he sounds (and even sexed-out and tired Face thinks Hannibal sounds stupid at that moment) and sits back against the headboard, staring uncomfortably straight ahead.

“Aw, boss, come on! I know you're not gay, but can't you at least pretend you've got one feminine bone in your body, just for the pillow talk?” Face sighs, still not back from the land of delicious post-coital feelings. “I love you, yeah, so deal with it. It's not like I'm asking you for a promise ring and stopping my birth control.”

Hannibal utters a choked sound, something like disbelief or maybe laughter, but Face doesn't let him get a word in. He knows how the boss gets when Face lets him get a word in.

“You don't have to wear a rainbow-coloured cape and start listening to Elton John just yet, boss. Maybe it's a bit much for one day.” He grins up at Hannibal, and the older man smiles back, almost involuntarily. “But you've been staring at my ass for weeks. You can handle hearing those scary little words.”

“You're an insufferable brat, Peck,” Hannibal says, but there's something good-natured about the way he says it. Face has the feeling that Hannibal will be repeating those words soon enough, just not tonight. And he never expected it to happen so soon, either, so he doesn't mind. There's time later. Preferably after a few more rounds of deflowering.

Face grins back. “Yeah, I know, but it works for me. Now, come on, let's get some sleep, and tomorrow we can have the whole coming-out conversation. Setting boundaries and so on. Right now I'm tired and you smell like sex.”

“Why do I get the feeling you have a lot of experience with this kind of situation?” Hannibal says sourly, then lies back down hesitantly.

Face reaches for the light on the bedside table and grins back over his shoulder at Hannibal before he turns it out. “Because,” Face says with a smirk, “I really am that good.”


End file.
